For You

Sun forest

Almost weightless. Almost nothing.
But significant too. From on top some
mountain perch, you came raining down.
The earth wants you back in her bosom.
She pulls you from on high. The light passes
through, effortless. Sharply, the wind rips;
plummeting. A great gust pushes, thrusting up.

The forces fight for you.

Bristling through branches of tall trees,
you come down with the sound of a thumb-
pressed comb. The light, now low and star
shaped, gleams and your plumage, ruffled
and threadbare seems, to be wanting wings
again to dance and fly through pail sunset,
to freedom’s alibi.

The forces fight for you.

I stand on grassy hill. Weight shifted back,
knees bent and back bowed, ready and waiting.
The sun burnt and searing red, bends the light and
calls my bed, yet I push through the wear.
I see you first as soft, gold light and pray to coming,
starry night, I can keep you; a feather come to call.

The forces fight for you.

Yellow, gold and brownish white, so small in my hand.
Always I’ll remember this, on grassy knoll I stand.
What a bird this must have been, what a thoughtful plan.
You fell first and I did catch, how perfect did you land.

I will fight for you.

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